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KNOL POETRY CONTEST!

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Bookmark this Knol to come back for updates!
ALL VISITORS can publish their poems!

EVERYONE can comment on or vote the poems submitted!

Best Poems

Propose your poem via a comment at the bottom of the page! Feel free to vote for any two poems you like best! Vote anytime you like!. This is an open and on-going process! The best poems with more votes win nothing. Just recognition…

All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling
Oscar Wilde

A great poet, a really great poet, is the most unpoetical of all creatures.
But inferior poets are absolutely fascinating.
The worse their rhymes are, the more picturesque they look.
The mere fact of having published a book of second-rate sonnets makes a man quite irresistible.
He lives the poetry that he cannot write.
The others write the poetry that they dare not realize
Oscar Wilde

How to participate

The process pf participating is very simple. Just submit your poem with a comment in this page! I will enter it into the Knol (i.e. here) for everyone to see! The rules to be followed are simple:

  • Please submit poems that are written in English via comments in this page. Remember that comments are moderated so you may have to wait 1-2 days before you see your comment and poem posted here.

  • Please try to write small poems of 2-20 lines. Every size of poems is accepted, but you can understand that a poem of 2 pages is difficult to post in this limited space. Thanks for your understanding!

  • Please submitt original poems! I want YOUR poems, not a copy-paste of poems written by others! I do not have the resources nor the time to verify that a poem posted here is original, but I hope everyone is so honest to follow this rule. After all the purpose of the contest is to have fun, not to win Nobel prize.

How to vote

The voting process is again simple. You just read the poems available and vote for two of your most favourites, as in the Best Knol of the Month contest (when Knol was around)! Please do not vote for your own poems. The contest is on-going. All votes will be seen in the page and updated constantly. Enjoy!

It is through art, and through art only, that we can realise our perfection

Oscar Wilde

Sajid Khan – We will find it through the looking glass

Emotional intelligence is so complex?
No matter where we look we cannot find it
not through a looking glass
Not through a microscope.
And yet it has its hands everywhere
Whether we study or make breakfast
Whether we behave as an individual or group
It controls us to the T.
And when we are in a literacy hole
We study and study our math and science
And yet on the stage of life
when our math and science knowledge pays off
we expect pure happiness and yet it is confusing
as we still feel hollow and our happiness
It is not satisfying.
So we go back to extracting more and more
Benefits from our science expertise
Yet our happinesses are fleeting
And we are standing again
in a hole of confusion and misery
and we do not know that the gap in our knowledge
is not in science
The gap is in our emotional literacy!
Only when we wake up and fix
Our emotional holes will we
Find pure happiness, we will find it
through the looking glass
And we will find it through the microscope
We will find it in sound sleep
We will find it in the bedroom
And in our work and on the street
Our stage of life will be littered with
pure happiness. In fact pure happiness will become us!

Monica Gomez – Sometimes

Words
Escape me and
Sometimes
I cant find them and
Sometimes
When they’ve got away
My minds
Not far behind them
But I’ve still got
My looks and
I’ve still got
My heart…
Though
Sometimes
Its misplaced and then
A little torn apart
Thats okay, I’ve still got
My head
My hands
My feet
Though all I really need is just
My soul
To be complete

Jason Quinten Kincade – Trigger

Follow your dream;
Be it bold or be it humble,
Follow your dream.
Even when it hurts…even when you stumble,
Follow your dream!Pour your heart into its most coveted mold,
No matter the risk or rathe of scorn,
No matter the cast be of tin, bronze, silver or gold.When against all odds, it transcends the fire,
So sweetly—after lofty ones ranted it doomed to buckle,
Balky sideliners will leap the wire,
And the downtrodden are bound to chuckle.

Kam Salisbury – Old tracks

Old train tracks going nowhere.
The tracks have to, must, go somewhere.
Where the tracks go is not where anyone lives… except the trees, a stream and sky.
The tracks go some place after all.

P V Ariel – Oh Death You’re Defeated

Oh death you come like an angel.
You are like a physical obsession.
You wander through the dark silent night.
To snatch away the better ones.
Oh, I am in deep turmoil, sad and morose.
My heart is wailing for my dear one.
Whom, you took away in that silent night.
Even before his ripe of age, you took him off.
Oh God how sad and morose I am.
I couldn’t fully enjoy his love and care.
His concern for others are unfathomable.
He led many to your marvelous light.
Yes, he led an exemplary life to follow.
He was a gem among thousands.
I feel like shouting ‘God I hate you’,
You’ve done injustice to us and to many.
When I thought this unwanted thought,
Suddenly my mind recollected your words.
The marvelous ones in the scripture.
Lord, I feel guilty for my unwanted thought.
Lord, you are just and do everything good,
especially to the one who loves you.
Oh Lord I know your love towards us.
It’s too unfathomable to my understanding.
Yes Lord You want him to be with You forever.
Yes Lord he fought diligently and finished his race.
He led many to your kingdom through his word and deed.
Yes Lord, he finished his race with a remarkable mark.

RC Stafford – 8000 Chickens

Low flying Hueys buzz my flock at @ 2 AM;
Weekend warriors were out having fun.Bantams collided in midair with broilers,
Careening off one another,
Messerschmitts and Spitfires crashing into tin,
Piling up thick against the wall of their coop.At dawn, walking out to survey the damage, I see red.
I spy broken birds; my forehead furrows.
I scoop red earth, slinging it at the scarlet sky.
My arms extending.
My fists clenching, clutching clay,
Chicken blood dripping from my fingers.
Next morning the rag reports:
“Eight Thousand Chickens Destroyed
In Cadaverous County.”

Zainab Salim – I love it when he

I love it when he looks at me
I just smile & thank God who gave me eyes through which I can see
I love it when we fight for silly things
The following day as if nothing has happened, very unique as a human being
I love it when we know we are in trouble and there is no solution
I love it when he says he will fix everything
Then he says you will see very soon together we will sing
And fly up above so high as if we have fairy wings
I love it when I’m crying in pain
He holds my hand and says everything will just be fine
So just stop crying alone, I’m here not to dry your tears
Then he gently says, I’m here to cry with you my princess
His words make me strong
Makes me believe nothing is impossible
He is genius
I love when he talks like a poet
Beautiful words coming from his mouth
I consider him the best man in the planet.

umme salma – My Dear Brother

1. I always fought with lord for not giving me a brother
And use to be jealous with those who have the one
With whom they shared their joys and sorrows forever
But,I had none.
2. One fine day to my great surprise
God gave me a boon in disguise
The most pleasant gift I have ever got
It was you my brother which I never thought.
3. The one who always want my happiness
The one who always pray for my Success
The one who can never see tears in my eyes
The one who can pay for my sake any costliest price.
4. The one who loves me, the one who cares me
The one who always secures and protects me
The one who is always there for me whenever I need
The one who always helps me in my every deed
5. Thank you lord for giving me the lovely treasure
To have such a one is a great pleasure
The one who is for me a perfect friend, guide and fatherly figure
He is my DEAR ARUN BROTHER.

Kalai Selvi – Tethered to you…

Restricting to move around
I give in with a bound
Timeless memories surround
To tether me again for a round
Wheels moving on tracks sound
As if I am thrown to ground
Slithering emotions smother
And let me once again bother
Not only for me but also for you.

umme salma – Wish to my Mom on Mother’s Day

There are billions of billion stars in the galaxies
Lightning many worlds.
But, there is only one star on this earth
Enlightening your world
Who always loves you, who cares you and nurture
and that star is your DEAR MOTHER !

Enn Pen – Chick-a-choo

chick-a-choo

you know who

tromps around the towns

(glitter guns and paint)seeking something, not the truth

giving it all, more than most could imagine

sacrificing for her passionsold soul, chick-a-choo

we love you

with your catchy tunes

bearing all your scars

for mini-choos to healbut chick-a-choo

chick-a-choo

we’re losing you
(because) you lost yourself
but you don’t know, do you?

chick-a-choo, boo hoo
we love you and though
we search for you and
ache for a glimpse of you(r world)
we don’t want to lose you

winters are long, chick-a -choo
don’t let us lose you
(for a bump, doot-do)

Marat Gleyzer – With Eyes

if i were a blind man,

then i couldn’t see.the way you look like in my head,

the way you look at me.

the way i look at you,

when you’re not looking back at me,

the way you look at me,

when i don’t see the thing you see.i could feel your voice,

and make the choice to go to you.

i could hear your steps,

and know the way they carry you.a step into the distance,

a step into the past.

making. steps. the. difference.

makethisstepthelast.

the step that brought you here,
your tangled worry shuffled by.

the beat between your words,
your shallow breath before you cried.
cries in anger,
cries in tears,
cries of conscience,
cries of fears.

i hear hope,
it trickles through,
telling you what you should do.
hope that you’ll soon laugh again,
sharing moments with your friends,
stories both from now and then.

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jokes and taunts and ribs at times,
“better for the rhythm rhyme. taken for a welfare dime.” HA!

sigh, Ahhhhhhhhhh………

if i were a blind man,
then i wouldn’t know.

the way you pucker,
when you say the simple word hello.
the way you hide behind your shoulder,
when you’re playing shy,
my own reflection from the sun,
staring through your eyes.

the way you take that picture,
the way you read that book,
the way you wear your make-up,
the sexy way you look. ROCK!!

With Eyes I taste your skin,
and they commit me to a touch,
the angle of your hourglass,
your waist..
your breast..
TOO MUCH!!

i close them,
and forget about the shape and style i see.
i think about the thing
that really means a thing to me.

with eyes i see you notice,
when i notice her pass by.

with eyes you notice that i noticed,
now you wonder why?

its just these eyes,
play tricks sometimes,
i notice what i see.

but just because i’ve seen her,
doesn’t mean that she’s for me.

and then the world starts turning,
and passions come in play.
the generally hospitable,
they vanish to dismay,

the dissection, the digestion, the projection of the thought:
“now that i’ve seen he’s seen her, does he like the way she’s taut?”

but then she knows i’ve seen her,
she’s aware that she’s been seen,
she also knows he’s seen her,
are you seeing what i mean?

you see,
the seeing really isn’t
seeing very much.

it always gets us into thinking
very jealous thoughts,
but on this note
i’ve run amuck,
and think I’ve said enough.

imagine i’m a blind man,
and haven’t seen a thing.
i never want to see again,
imaginary things.

what would you do?
what would you say?
you’d smile and go
your merry way.

you’d ask me what its like in there?
i’d say that if you really cared.
you’d take a knife
and gouge your eyes,
and listen to yourself sometimes.

then ask me how it smells today?
and did i feel the breeze that way?
you’d never know i’d seen her,
because i haven’t ‘seen’ her.

Celeste Heery – Clove

It’s one of those clear Fall nights
where you feel you can slice the moon
and eat it with a knife and fork
my clove cigarette crackles like a comforting fireI am in and out with my usual burning desires
my mind goes to gentle things
streams and falls
cascading water taking me at willI don’t need gloves, I am warmed by the coffee cup
in and out of stores, looking for inspiration
in faces and places
beat beat beat of the drum
melodic escape
where i’ll end up I don’t know
but it’s not herei’m tired,
oozing out of my skin like that last bit of toothpaste
street sounds are like caramel for my ears

Nicholas Feden – The Wikipedian

I tried to find my name on Wikipedia one night
I searched and searched, then realized it wasn’t on the site.
I guess that sent me off into an existential tizzy,
for if a man’s not wikki-worth, then what the hell worth is he.To look back on it now, I guess I went a bit insane,
for I went to other articles to edit in my name.
This I did for three days straight, without a single break.
Till on day four I had to stop, for, Oh my hands did ache!I woke up hours later, laying sprawled upon the floor.
I would have slept much longer, but for banging on my door.
The door flung wide, two men stepped in, “Who’s there?,” my voice did cry.
Their answer made my stomach turn- it was the FBI.It seems that under W. Bush intelligence had changed.
The Agency had reassessed how agents should be trained.
In olden days they combed the street, in searching for a threat.
The new school simply typed in search terms on the internet.

“We know you shot the Pope in May of 1981,”
“My God,” I said, “you Wikied me! “Our list has just begun.”
There’s JFK, and RFK, and MLK as well,”
My punishment would not be jail, they’d send me straight to hell!

“The founder of Al-Queda, and the FARC, and KKK,
And we’ve finally caught the man who took the Lindbergh kid away.
You slipped atomic secrets underneath the Berlin wall,
it’s such a shame that Julius and Ethel took the fall.”

“We’ve got you placed at Altamont. Just groovin’ to the Stones?
We’re digging up your backyard to find Jimmy Hoffa’s bones.”
Their list went on from Caesar all the way to Patty Hearst,
From Judas to Osama, I was clearly history’s worst.

When they had finally finished, only one small hope remained.
Wiki damned me, could it save me? So I quickly typed my name.
“What Wiki says must surely be, but before I meet my fate,
Please look at my good deeds as well, perhaps they’ll mitigate.”

I pulled up every article I thought could help my case,
I started out with how I was the first man up in space.
They believed it without question, they bought every word I wrote,
So, I showed them one that said I was the man they called Deepthroat.

“That’s me in Tiananmen, when I stood before a tank,
now this was some years after I had helped to hide Anne Frank.
I invented Penicillin, then discovered DNA.”
“Just think,” one agent said, “of all the lives that he has saved.”

I knew I had them now, why, they were eating from my hand,
so I showed them that I authored both the I Ching and Koran.
I could have gone for hours, starting from the dawn of time,
But I’d surely been successful in defense of all my crime.

I still thank God today that those two agents heard my plea,,
By the time that I was through, I swear they genuflected me.
They meekly said, “we’re sorry”, and asked for my forgiveness.
I told them that they had it, and to go about their business

And though the years have passed me by, I still retain some fear.
From the lesson that I learned that night, a lesson you should hear:
Oh, we surely are a culture that has lost its sense of truth,
When the words of such a fool as me, are offered up as proof.

Daniel Terry – Is Structure that Important?

rhyme rhythm blank verse free verse…verse…why does a poem demand these limitations last time i checked poetry came from your heart you were DrawinG A PicturE WitH WordS why would i want a scheme to limit that by forcing me to write the words i did not actually intend to say how is that PoetrY? and when i say drawing a picture i dont mean literally like some “poems” do thats just uncreativity or maybe that is some poets standpoint it matters not to me… before you start saying hey this isnt a poem it doesnt even have structure well i personally guarantee you that there is at least one poem out there that looks like this. BuT ThatS ThE ProbleM if poetry is really was as people acclaimed it to be every poem would look different we wouldnt have to worry about the different types because TherE WoulD BE NonE theyd all be DifferenT! i though that was the purpose of poetry in the first place was to stand out so that if you told me the name of any poem i would know it because IT WaS UniquE the difference can be small or it can be gi-…never mind theres nothing original i can say there…it frustrates me to know end how NobodyS OriginaL AnymorE everything is just a spinoff of another then again when the worlds been here for 2000 years it can get pretty difficult i mean look at shakespeare in his over 100 sonnets there we go again with the type of poem youd think thered be at least some repeated ideas and theres another thing what about how people end their poems they have their point made you think youve figured it out then they just LeavE YoU WonderinG with some random question or vague statement that brings you back to square one at least with this poem you NeveR GoT IT IN ThE FirsT PlacE and so now

umme salma – The true friendship

One wish to vow, one wish to bore.
I always want you as my friend, & nothing more.
A friend to share my tears and joy, a friend to tease and enjoy.
A friend who cares & teases, a friend who shares & seizes.
A friend who can hold my hand when I m about to fall
A friend who is happy for me when I grow tall.
A perfect chem, a real gem
It’s a life time honor to have them
A friend who is the Heart, Brain & Soul of a beautiful relationship
Which we lovingly nevertheless Proudly call as the TRUE FRIENDSHIP!!!!……

ishmel stevenson – Hamster

hamster in the wheel
what the hecks your deal?
round and round
safe and sound
until i feed you supperhamster in the wheel
i’m asking,”Are you Real?”
you run and run
you’re never done
until you’re nearly deadhamster in the wheel
so, how do you feel?

cg – Flow and Disappears

For those in sorrow, smiles do spare
‘less a madness does find in there
that innate contrast, the compulsion to last
which proves true: sorrows come, disappear;And though these struggles seem certainly vast
each moment our history is swallowed in past
that beside our pleasure, our sorrow’s unmasked
through prose our pain flows, in verse first and last.

Jason Williams – Slurp

Gratitude, the beast,
threatens to consume ego
with a sucking sound.

Kevin Gaddis – The End?

Unforgetting, all forgiving
Ever knowing, always known
There was no start to this beginning
There is no end that can be known

Jason Kincade  – The Annealing

The hardest work I’ve ever done,
Was digging for gold under the desert’s sun.
New to the game…It was up at dawn,
pick ‘n shovel locked in hands,
Off to sweat and toil on the burning sands.

Week after week…not to go bust,
I swang my pick from dawn to dusk,
While covered and chocking in blizzards of dust.

It wasn’t unusual to encounter snakes,
Scorpions and Killer bees
that were eager to drop me to my knees.

Each day, as the sun dipped behind the Pinto’s
And purple shadows raced across the land,
I stumbled back to camp to shovel Chile beans
Straight from a dadburn can.

Came the darkness, I’d lie beneath a blanket of stars
to doze and rest my sore, bleeding hands.
And all through those long cold nights,
I weighed fists full of gold,
creations that I dreamed.
I was destined to strike it rich…or so it surely seemed.

For in the nearby hills,
Under thorny cactus and rotting rock,
Beckoned a golden ticket to paradise.
And I meant to make it mine,
No matter the work…no matter the price.

When at last…pockets filled with gold,
I’d whoop, holler, jump up and down
And bolt straight for Rowdy town,
Where my story would be told,
And my gold would be sold.

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At the bar of the Sourdough saloon,
I’d lay my money down
And declare it New Year’s Eve
For everyone in the town.

It’d be steak and ham bones
For my ol’ tail-wagger…Yubalee,
She having been my sole companion,
And always first with me.

There’d be food and drink aplenty,
Slaps on the back, dancing, singing through the night,
And a lusty…randy romp for me.

Leastwise that’s the way I knowed it would be,
Till a scrawny little greenhorn,
Only a day in the desert,
Stole it all away from me.

Though he had certainly scooped off the cream,
I still had my fire and I still had my steam;
For in addition to a prospector,
I had become a crusty desert rat,
From whom you can not steal his dream.

Melinda Hull  – Brace Yourself

I hate to be the one to tell you
but I have some bad news
Though no one in your family
has the slightest clue…You better brace youself,
for what your about to hear.
You better brace youself…
I know your tired of being here.
You better brace youself,
Cuz no longer will things be the same,
and the life that your living
will forever be changed.Your mother is leaving,
Leaving everything behind.
She said she couldnt stand the feeling,
of the way she felt inside.So Im sry for the pain that you now feel,
I know your wishing that this wasn’t real.
She wanted me to tell you that things would be alright
and she’d come to get you soon, so please don’t cry.I hate to be the one to tell you,
but i have more bad news
though no one in your family,
has the slightest clue.

So you better brace youself,
for what your about to hear.
You better brace youself…
I know your tired of being here.
You better brace youself,
Cuz no longer will things be the same,
and the life that your living
will forever be changed.

Your mother is gone now,
This time shes gone for good.
She said to not blame the doctors,
cuz they did everything they could.

So I’m so sorry
for the pain that you now feel.
I know your wishing that this wasn’t real.
She wrote you a letter to tell you things would be alright
and to forever keep her in your heart and please dont cry.

Anonymous – OF WARRIORS DESIRES, OF SOLDIERS THE DUTIES

Deep in the immense sparseness
of a disclosed uncertainty,
a courageous and unfrightened soul
though solitary and fragile,
to the destiny of his call marches.Of his duties a prisoner
…still he walks,
Of his dreams letting tears fall,
…still he conquers.His desires fights but,
not a grievance and no beholding.
Some regrets perhaps but, he won’t halt no,
and the night hears his laments derailing crude emotions,
plastering bitter agonies as he suffers his burden
while memories of home muffle cries of war.Warrior heart,
outer soldier.Deracinated passions and loves burned,
oh! delirious and hurting presents.Soon, a heart crumbles deep
and himself hides from his inner pains as hastily departs to
challenge many deaths, vanishing into the blinding darkness
of a foreclosed deep sky,
a wrathful sea
and a searing but yet, parsimonious desert.

A tribute to the Soldiers of the Desert Wars.

Hannah Choi – Seeing like the first time

As I walk past the park
I see a man
He does not see me, for a dog is his companion, his eyes
And I wonder, did he ever know what he is missing?
The beauty of the sky, the stars?
The feeling of looking out the window when you wake up, and thinking
Why didn’t I ever notice the majesty of our world?
The colors, the rain
But in a way, he is fortunate
He does not see the pain of people
But there is more good in this world than sin
The laughter of a new baby, new hope
Looking at the world and thinking,
This is like seeing
For the first time

Peggy Strickland  – Not a prayer

Child of my heart…As time flits by on fragile wing
My soul yearns for just a moment’s surcease
A hairbreadth pause to slow your journeyTo sear into eternity’s memory
One immaculate image
Of my life’s perfect joy

Tise Ben-Eka  – Ancestor

Africa my ancestor’s home
they played their games
and slept in their homes
many of them I admireThey played their games
they had their fun
and slept in their homes
to go back down to restThey had their fun
it’s bedtime now
to go back down to rest
have a respectable night dear ancestorsIt’s bedtime now
and slept their in homes
have a respectable night dear ancestors
Africa my ancestor’s home

Orville Weale  – Of this Earth

I am, this Earth, is me.
My heart, pumps water, through rivers.
My hair, the grass, of summer.
The trees, my soul, my feelings.The wind, my breath, my joy.
In me, the mountain, my strength.
All life, my heart, my spirit.
All things, my love, inside.I live, I love, I will die.
This Earth, my shelter, my Mother.
I’ll sleep, in Her arms, forever.
I am, this Earth, forever.

shahnaz khanum – Floods in Pakistan

I lived at a place
heaven on earth
surrounded by snow covered mountains
almond and walnut trees
the scene always filled my heart with joy
I loved my placeOn that fateful night
it rained which was not going to stop
and the river nearby over flew
I could hear the noise of waves
and suddenly
water entered our houses
within minutes it was up to waist
I took my younger brother on my shoulder and ran towards mountains nearbyMy mother was with me
but I cant see my father
he was sleeping in courtyard and was taken away by waves
he was disabled
and could not find his crutches
we spent three nights on the mountain
without any food and shelter
saw our houses falling and households floating awayToday I am homeless and orphan
looking to you for help
but for how long
who is going to build our houses
who will earn bread for us
God has taken away all his blessings
and I pray to Him to give us courage
to bear this trauma, destruction and loss.

shahnaz khanum – Death by Fire

(This poem is voice of an Asian women who is going to be burnt by fire as she has not brought
sufficient dowry for her in laws)I am locked in the kitchen
by no one else
but my in-laws
the fire is soon going
to engulf meI deserved this punishment
as I dreamed of getting married
without sufficient dowry
I failed to bring
gold bangles
for my mother in lawA hefty amount of money
for my husband
who wanted to start
a business by marrying me
all doors and widows of kitchen
are closed
my hands and legs are tied
my mouth is closed by a tape
flames are licking my bodyI can t cry
can t call any one for help
soon I will be turned to ashes
then my partner will call for help
when he will be sure
that I am dead.

Jason Kincade – You Piss me Off

It irks me when you bemoan your thinning hair and the make of your nose
While brave men and women, carried from battlefields everyday,
Struggle anonymously to cope with stolen limbs and burnt and broken faces.It irks me when you fret
Over “dowdy” clothes or a wee bitty scratch on your car,
While millions must make do with tattered rags and naked feet.
And it bothers me when, snug in your cozy home, you gripe
Over broken egg yokes and burnt toast,
While millions shiver in the open and have nothing to eat.It irks me when you bitch
About running low on soda and beer,
While across the pond
Desperate mothers rock parched and shriveled babies and pray for rain,
Then wail, but cannot form a tear, as they watch their children slowly blister and die.It saddens me that you are so many,
But it disturbs me most that, all too often, you are me.

Sajid Khan – Did you ever see a humming bird cry?

Fountain of life its not just prune juice.
Maybe not for you
But for me it is, it is, it is.
It is all prune juice
And just nothing more.There is you and you and you
There are countless yous
There is only one me
Therefore I am special
Just as special as you and you…You look tired and unhappy
Have trouble sleeping?
You are wearing your mask
I am wearing my mask
Mask is wearing out mask.Does your supervisor know
you are wearing one?
Does your spouse know?
Do you even know if
You are wearing one?You can wish all you want
You can dance from pillar to post
You can run from Dubai
But you will always take your self
No matter where you go.You don’t need to run
From your tired self
Stay where you are
And run, run, run
Just run from your mask.You know you are a trophy
So you keep buying trophies
But the trophies you have
You don’t count, while you count
The ones your neighbor has.
And you wonder why
You look tired and unhappy
And have trouble sleeping.

Angela – Ode to a Twelve-Year-Old

Pop culture is a dreadful thing
that doth infect the mind.
And also a repugnant plague
that doth infect our kind.But should a child, twelve, I’ll say,
just playing with a ball,
renounce pop culture, I would name
a gem above them all.So here doth end my skimpy poem
unhealthy and hirsute,
and while I cannot speak for you,
myself, I find it cute.

khuda dad azara – Coming Back from School

Sun runs to middle of sky
And singing lips run dry
A child with cheers and joy
Runs to his father standby
It is what remembers a school boy
The moments loveliest than any toy
Eyes are closing and tired is greed
And he is unable to read
He comes out of school
Cloud is darkened and breeze is cool
But he doesn’t run with joy
He is no more a school boy
With heavy steps and head
He was a walking dead
A familiar sound awakened him
He was a child calling, “Hi dad”
Walking with father, the school boy was glad
Books, computers, squirrels and cat
Dark clouds, snow are all what he chat
He is no more a school boy
Though his reading lips still run dry

Narayana Rao K.V.S.S. – Engineering Economics

Engineers design engines
Engineers produce engines
Engineers maintain engines
Engineers redesign engines

Engines work
Engineers make buck
Engines sell in millions
Engineers make billions

To sell in millions
Engineers use economics
Demand curves give price
Engineers keep it in eyes

Engineers strain
stretch their brain
mix and fix
materials and processes

They achieve the cost
that gives them most
profit at last
and makes them best

Angelina – The Red Sea of Delivery

Like Moses relieved his people from the burdens imposed,
A woman liberates her child from a dependence composed.

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Moses parted the Red Sea and conquered slavery,
So does a woman conquer bondage in delivery.

For God inhaled His breath for his people’s survival
He exhaled the breath of life for His children’s arrival.

Moses most surely had his life guaranteed
The woman insures her blessings decreed

Both works did God do
For Moses, suspire
To women, inspire

Kin – THE AMERICAN CENTURY

What is America?
The answer proud;
Proud of work, life, liberty

I left her standing
In a field of mud;
Singing, dancing to her own sweet tune
Breakfast in bed for 600,000, She said
I smiled and she turned away

That day ended
(As they always do)
Proud, Happy, and Smiling

II
See what I did, she said to me
Looks good
And it was over
Already over
Time to start something new
Go for it, she said

III
So here we are
At the turn of the American Century
Proud of Freedom (a tower)
Proud of Life (abortion is wrong)
Proud of You (I am)

justin spring – For My Uncle, Father Joe Drohan upon His Death

Sometimes in my dreams, Joe,
we are standing at the Gates of Heaven.
Your mother and your brothers and sisters
are standing on the other side, waiting for you.

You hold a rosary up in one hand,
and a pair of brown shoes in the other,
to show your mother you did not forget.

Someone who looks exactly like you
is standing next to her. His eyes are shining.

I can feel you beginning to cross over. You tell me
when you do, the one who looks like you
will become brighter, and then the two of you
will become one person, forever, again.

You say to me: “I know you think
I’m imagining this, but I’m not imagining anything.
All of this is real. Love makes it real.
Love makes everything real, Justin.
Everything. Even this.
You have to change your eyes.”

Monica Gomez – SHE IS…

Young
and
Beautiful
with unbridled eyes
Unable to comprehend
the elusive lies of the
Misdirected
for her innocence though
Quite discreet
is not entirely
Incomplete
yet something seems to have
Gone astray
so she continues
Searching
for the way back
To herself
and for a way to go on
Giving.

Alex Spence – GOSSIP OR CATCHING UP

We need some thing or some one to talk about.
Gossip or not?
Gossip?
Gossip?
Gossip?
“Have you heard?”
“No tell me more”
“He’s said this”
“She’s done that”
“They never”
They did, I’ am telling ya!”
“So and so said, who spoke to that fella with the limp, who was
chatting to Old Betty; you know Old Betty?”
“Well, there’s no smoke without fire”
“Ee, a’na”
“It must be true then”

Jim Björklund – About The Internet – A Poem

Its everytime o´clock online
and free of bondage to nation.

No one knows how fast
or with what sequence
or speed the internet
transend itself.

No one knows how many
minds holding
the doorhandles
or being breastfed by the
same mother or hunted by
none but scared of love.

Its a strange thing this phenomena.
Its not owned by you.
Not by me.
No nation, no group, no any single interest
can or may claim it as their property.

No!
It is not owned by anyone at all
or in any general way owned more than a lakes or
a rivers or a oceans H2O molecules are own.

The same H2O you run in your bath,
were a week ago in Ganges after melting,
from the artic icecap earlier that morning.

The same with the internet
and with its quality of eternal and loss.

Its everytime o´clock online
and free of bondage to nation.

Alex Spence – THAT’S VILLAGE LIFE Part 2: COMMUNITY SPIRIT

Is there?
Just under the surface of Village Politics
Just bursting to get out, but kept under wraps for when needed

Community Spirit (What a wonderful feeling)

Every one, going in the same direction
Every one, helping every one else
Every one, being friendly
Every one, talking
Every one, building relationships that will last for years to come
Every one, smiling
Every one, laughing

It’s a great pity it takes a crisis to spark off Community Spirit
or maybe that’s why it is so special

minoo bhagia – Bonsai

Little bonsai don’t cry
I know you want to dance with the clouds in the open sky
You want to write moon and stars on the wings of butterfly
You want to ask the birds how it feels when they fly
You want to feel the night’s tears of joy
So pure and tiny but always shy of the sun in the sky
I can see your shadow outside the big glass door of the drawing room
You are the same long tree
Man himself is a bonsaiBonsai of egotism
Bonsai of self loveYou are the summary of
Broken , fragmented and disintegrated manYou are the signature of the hearts which are dry
He is the one who should cry
You don’t cry
Please don’t cry

Kelly Moyle – A Daughters’ Last Words

Momma please help me I do not understand,
I can not feel your touch when you hold my hand.

I’ve always did the things you asked, I promise I was good,
I heard the doctors ask you if you understood.

I can see in your eyes that something’s very wrong,
You looked at me and said that I must be strong.

I know in my heart that I ‘m not going to last,
Please hold me mom,I feel I ‘m fading fast.

The light that’s shining so bright in my eyes,
Is this what happens when everyone dies.

I know it’s my time for I’ve grown so cold,
I’ve always thought that I would grow old.

I’m sorry mom but it’s time to say good-bye,
I’ll always love you even when I die.

So wipe your tears and smile for me,
My souls’ with God it’s been set free.

P V Ariel – OH! LORD FORGIVE ME (A Prayer of a Busy Person)

Oh my Lord forgive me-
I’ve failed you yet again.
Many may not consider this a failure
But my case is different I feel.
Oh no! It’s not my anger this time,
Nor any unwanted or unpleasant thought,
Nor any ugly desire of selfish nature.
But Oh Lord! I’ve failed you
In much more cunning way,
That made me to hang my head in shame.
Lord I acted like a busiest man on earth.
Preaching, teaching, counseling, writing,
Editing and many other connected things,
All in relevance to my routine job
Oh Lord! To tell you the truth
I really enjoyed what I was doing
I was enthusiastic creative and committed
To the role entrusted to me
Apart from that I lived up to
The satisfaction of all my acquaintance
And to the utmost satisfaction of my earthy masters
But Oh Lord! I failed miserably to speak to you
Yes I found no time to talk to you.
Not even a single word to you oh my Lord
Now I realize my folly I committed.
I realize it late to know thy greatness
I realized my great lose I incurred to me
I admit that the very breath under my nose
Is the kind favor of You
Lord forgive me this time for my folly
Accept me ones again to live in your line
And to give thanks and praises to thee
For the manifold blessings which I enjoy-
Every moment of my life
Lord helps me to find and give priority
To You in my busy life.
Thank you Lord for accepting my request.

Deonte Meriwether – Realize Real Eyes

Real Eyes, Realize, Real Eyes
Some appear to be real, But only tell real lies
Some live in thier dreams, Because they fear real lives
While I have a 9mm pistol aimed at mines
BANG, Tell me what you feel
Real Eyes could see, And I see you aren’t real
You are just a fairy, Waving your wand at obstacles
Making it harder for us honest people to live
And you lead me to this question to myself
Why am I real, when it is so much easier to be a fairy?

Kalai Selvi – Me

Staring at the petals strewn around

I gazed to ask those soft curves

For what you live here as thee

With a chuckle they replied to me

Look at where your curves abound

And think about the flesh around…..

Are you deemed to live and exist forever.

William F. Hogg MD – A Short Platonic Diatribe

Un-thought conceits in youth instilled
Raise aspirations vain but hot,
Expand an ego that was willed
To fill a tiny mundane lot.

Jason Quinten Kincade – Pocket of Gold

Pocket o’ gold, oh pocket o’ gold,

I needs to find ya ‘fore I gets too old!Mother was a thrashing machine and I never knew Daddy.
Early on, to seek your cradle, I escaped the home that was not,
Determined to make you mine…to give it all I’ve got.But now I’m grizzled, lost, and still searching, still wanderin’ life’s bumpy road;
Worn and weary, I ache for a smooth stretch to stop and rest my heavy load.
Pocket o’ gold, oh pocket o’ gold, will I have you…soon?
I needs to find ya ‘fore I gets too old

If one cannot enjoy reading a book over and over again,
there is no use in reading it at all
Oscar Wilde

Poems 2009 voting process

Votes results

  • A Daughters’ Last Words: 3    WINNER
  • She is…: 2
  • About The Internet – A Poem: 2
  • Engineering Economics: 2
  • Did you ever see a humming bird cry?: 2
  • The Red Sea of Delivery: 1
  • THAT’S VILLAGE LIFE Part 2: COMMUNITY SPIRIT: 1
  • Realize Real Eyes: 1
  • A Short Platonic Diatribe: 1
  • Bonsai: 1

Votes analytic results

  • Sajid Khan: Engineering Economics, She is….
  • Angela: Engineering Economics, About the Internet.
  • khuda dad azara: A Daughters’ Last Words, Did you ever see a humming bird cry?
  • minoo bhagia: A Daughters’ Last Words, The Red Sea of Delivery
  • kalle schwarz: About The Internet – A Poem,  THAT’S VILLAGE LIFE Part 2: COMMUNITY SPIRIT
  • Monica Gomez: Realize Real Eyes, A Daughters Last Words
  • Jan: She is…
  • Jason Quinten Kincade: A Short Platonic Diatribe
  • Kalai Selvi: Did you ever see a humming bird cry?, Bonsai

Poems 2010 voting process

Rules of voting

Vote by writting a comment below!

You can vote 2 poems. Please clearly state which ones in the body of your comment.

VOTING PROCESS IS COMPLETED FOR 2010

Votes analysis

  • P V Ariel – Oh Death You’re Defeated: 2  –  WINNER
  • Jason Quinten Kincade – Trigger: 1
  • RC Stafford’s – 8000 Chickens: 1
  • Nicholas Feden’s – The Wikipedian: 1
  • Peggy Strickland – Not A Prayer: 1
  • Monica Gomez – Sometimes: 1
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